It's a feeling we always chase

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Was she hungry? There was a hollow, gnawing ache in her stomach, and it might be lack of food. Might be unease, the empty discomfort of a space inside her that had so recently been full of light...

Maea shook her head. "I want to," she replied, mild and soft and quiet as Leafchange rain. "It's the least I can do. You should rest..." It was the only thing she could do for him, right now. Without words, without her body to convey what her voice could not... at least her actions might speak for her.

That she was here because she wanted to be. That she didn't regret coming. How much she still cared, even when the distance between them might cast doubt over all of it.

She shifted, let herself slip down from the armrest and down into the couch proper. Pulled her legs up under her as the wings disappeared; a white little bundle that hardly took up any space at all. Maea's eyes fixed on the fire, to keep from straying back to him. Not trusting herself to keep all the locked up emotions from showing through.

"Are you... alright?" The question was very quiet. Very broad, open... a tentative attempt to open for conversation. If he wanted to.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Her dismissal of his offer is met with another quiet nod. He knows he probably should try to rest and recoup, but his mind is whirling, spinning around with so many things to say and yet nothing lands on his tongue. It’s frustrating, somewhat sad, but he nods nonetheless to the offering — running his fingers along the furs again and settling back with his head pressed back against the plus chair.

As the fire begins to warm the room, he becomes far more comfortable, and listens quietly as she asks him if he’s okay. And he wonders what part she’s asking — if he’s okay mentally? Physically? Just in general? He doesn’t know how to answer right away, and so he simply closes his eyes and lets his head continue to rest, tilted back against the chair. “Better now.” He tells her quietly, honestly. Though it’s unclear of the reason why, at least at first.

“I’ve slept quite poorly with the wound… maybe a few hours a night? No way to get comfortable that wouldn’t hurt it.” He says with a soft and quiet sigh, shifting in the seat a small amount and opening his eyes to look at her. “Are you alright?” His accented rumble crosses the air, a dark brow raised toward her.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

'Better' was good. Better was a starting point. Meant he probably wasn't drowning, at least... and as he went on to explain about the lack of sleep, Maes made a soft sound in her throat, full of sympathy. "At least that's taken care of now. I hope you will sleep better..." Really, the sensible thing would be to send him off to bed right away, and save the food for later. But... honestly, Maea couldn't summon the strength to insist on anything.

The question was reflected back on herself. It was something she should have expected, and yet she was unprepared for it. Didn't know what to answer, that wouldn't have the whole elephant prodded awake again. Her silence was long, hesitant... but in the end, truth was all the could offer.

"In some ways... yes. Eating, sleeping, working... I've just been a bit... lost. Keep questioning everything I do. And say. Like I'm on the verge of breaking everything I touch..." Her eyes flitted from the crackling flames and towards Sunjata. Not able to smile; her chest hurt too much.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

“Mmmhm.” Is nearly the most he can manage with the crackling flames and the warmth that begins to filter through the room. But he forces himself to focus just enough to ask her how she is, opening his eyes to look at her and see what kind of answer he might get when it comes to such a broad question.

And honestly? It’s kind of what he expects. Her gaze flits back to him and he meets it easily, trying to refrain from the shift of his lips in a frown as he takes in a deep breath and runs his hands along the fur again. “Me too.” He offers quietly, shifting his attention back to the flames, Deimos’ words reverberating in his mind as he does so.

“What all do you think you’re going to break?” He asks quietly, wondering if he is a part of it — knowing full well that he can’t be broken anymore than he already has been. In the end he’s more concerned with her than himself.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

She sat unusually still in her corner. Didn't fidget or stir, didn't seem possessed of the usual restless energy that kept her moving, pushing, pulling both herself and others. A slight shrug was given as she mer his gaze... Maea couldn't hold it, and turned back to watching the fire dance.

"Everything I have left," came the simple reply. "The few things I still believe in. There are only so many things 'sorry' can mend.. and I keep wondering when I will have pushed too far." Maea tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. "Then again, I get this urge too. To just light everything on fire, burn every bridge and see what remains when I'm done. Who I will be when the dust settles. I don't... really like what I see in the mirror right now.

"There's no conviction in anything I do. One word from you and I would have left Halo to come here. A sign from Ludo and I would abandon all pretense of caring about anything but doing its will... and... it scares me."

Maea drew a deep breath, and let it out in a slow sigh. It was hard to explain... much did have to do with this rift opened between them, but she also thought that it might be created by her own instability. This insecurity, the lack of direction... so ready to hang all of herself on others.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He listens while she speaks, the shadowed steel eyes reflecting the flame of the fireplace, swirling them and smoldering them as he tries to understand. And to an extent, he does. He had done it with Lusea when he had nothing else. But he imagines it's different. She absolutely could make something for herself, but what it could be is something he doesn’t know.

So he chews on the inside of his lip, shifting on his seat, reaching his hand behind his neck to rub at the tense muscles there. “What do you want? Personally, with nobody else involved?” He asks her quietly, lifting his gaze to look back at her with an avian tilt of his head. “What goals?” He asks to clarify.

Because starting there would be easy, a point to start and a line to make the necessary steps. And he can help wherever he can… Though his mind in the state he’s in right now is likely to get too involved — already craving the warmth of her in his arms.

Luckily, there’s a scratch at the door, and he stands swiftly to let Haai inside — carrying three rabbits within and going into the kitchen to dump them onto the table.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

It just wasn't as easy to answer for her... because all her life had circled around the needs of others. The desire to please. To be useful, needed. And still, when she tried to think of what she wanted... all Maea could see was Sunjata.

And that wasn't allowed, was it? No matter how much she loved him, he was not an actual piece of her. Not something to base her entire existence around.

Struggling to think of anything at all to say, she was saved by Sunjata rising, to let in Haai and bring the game into the kitchen. Maea stood too, and followed, more slowly. Had to brace herself before stepping inside the room, and eyes flitting around the details, the changes, struggling to define what she felt.

"Good girl, Haai, those are perfect," she praised the griffin upon seeing the rabbits. Maea spared a few scratches for her, then went to the table. Reached for the knife tucked into her boot - the first blade Sunjata had given her - and set to clean one of the rabbits, with practiced ease that suggested it wasn't her first time butchering anything.

"Honestly? I don't know what I want," she admitted, picking up the thread from before. It was easier to think when her hands were busy.

"I say I want to get stronger, but there is no goal for what to do with that strength when I have it. I don't know what I would do with the knowledge I would gain from the Loreseekers, or the magic I'm cultivating at the Academy. I'm not a farmer, not a hunter, no mage or scholar or a soldier. No rogue... no queen. I have a few skills in so many areas but I've no true talent for anything. Apparently I decide my own fate too, so there is no direction other than what I decide on... and I I have no clue."

It was honestly quite ridiculous, and some wry amusement at her own indecision quirked her lips. Wringing the skin from the rabbit, she began to separate it into parts, not flinching from the gore or the blood staining her hands.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

The praise for the griffin is received with a small yip from her, leaning into the scratches before settling on the floor, gnawing at a bone she’d also found. Sunjata, meanwhile, follows to the kitchen, thinking nothing of what occurred between them here — trying actively to avoid the thought of it at all. And so he pulls up a stool of sorts, sitting on it and propping his head up with his hands as he focuses on her while she works.

After a few moments, he stands to retrieve a bowl for her to discard things into, before settling again and listening to her — watching the blood as it stains her fingers, recalling how she’d helped clean the cannibals blood off of him, how she’d likely saved his life when the sharks attacked.

So he swallows down any lingering thoughts on that front to focus on what she says, rolling them over in his mind. “Maybe you just haven’t found the thing you truly love to do yet.” He rumbles thoughtfully, focusing his attention on her fingers and the rabbits to avoid looking at her face. “I’m… Sort of lost on that front too — though my habits tend to lean toward the illegal or unknown, as you’re well aware.” His own wry smile crosses his face.

“So my goal right now? To get stronger and be whatever Safrin needs me to be.” He says contemplatively. Letting the Lady of the Stars shape his life to better suit and guide him. To get stronger to keep his friends and loved ones alive.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

She smiled at him when he brought the bowl, a quick twitch of lips in quiet appreciation. But her hands did not cease moving, and when the first rabbit was cleaned and divided, she went on to the next.

"I think you're right, I might still find it," she agreed. "And I don't really think there's anything wrong with not having all the answers. What really makes me worried is my tendency to get involved with things, rush headlong into them without having the proper knowledge or skillset... and potentially ruin things for others by being half-hearted."

Scraping her fingers clean with the back of the knife, she paused before reaching for the last rabbit.

"Take Loren, for example. He's as lost and broken as a person can be..  but he is still a healer, to the core. I don't doubt he could hate someone's guts, and still patch them up. Or Jigano... whatever else he may be, the man is a true scholar. I've never met anyone who is as dedicated to the gods as Amalia, or as capable a soldier as Deimos.

"I just... I wish there was a role like that for me. Something that's me."

Done with the rabbits, she set the skins aside for later reparation, and offered the bowl of offal to Haai. Using water magic to clean herself and the workspace, she set out to find other things to build a meal with. Bread, or vegetables, or anything at all.

"What is it that draws you to the whole Advocates lifestyle?" she asked Sunjata, while she rummaged through his kitchen. "I never thought of you as greedy, or cruel enough to kill for profit..?" She could of course be wrong. Wouldn't be the first time.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

A swift nod is given to her as she offers the information of her accidental half-heartedness. Something he had learned quickly on within the rebellion. It was either one hundred percent, or nothing at all. And so he’d dove straight into it, swallowed up within the fray of it all and not looked back after that. Though… A part of him does wonder what kind of man he’d be like, had he never found the rebellion – had he followed in his father’s footsteps after all. But those musings usually ended in a sour bitterness to his tongue and a brief hint of shame.

So he focuses on her when she talks of Loren and Jigano, Amalia and Deimos, and his lip quirks quietly to a frown at the mention of Deimos. “I’m not sure about many, but Deimos has… A lot of experience.” He explains with a slight wave of his hand. “He was a soldier in a much different way than I was. He lead armies, I think. I just had my patrols.” A feathering of his lip before he shakes his head with a quiet sigh. “He did it for awhile as far as I could tell.” As for Loren? As far as Sunjata knew, the summoner had been a healer for quite some time as well.

Amalia? Well, she was a natural – started as an Accepted much like himself before devoting herself entirely to Safrin. And Jigano… Well, he certainly had been a seeker of stories and what not for a very long time as well. And the problem with Sunjata was that the things he typically had the most experience with were things he didn’t particularly like doing.

So when she questions what draws him to the Advocates, he rolls his shoulders a small amount. “I am… Quite greedy when it comes to things.” He admits a bit softer, a slight distant look to his eyes. “Usually I have to have a good reason to kill for profit… But I would.” He offers before shaking his head. “I have before, in Korofi. But for the Advocates when I arrived? I was what they called an Overseer.” His gaze lifts toward her back as she rummages.

“So I kept track of all the deals we had, encoded it, made sure nobody was on our trail. So I never quite got much into the thick of it all.” He says after a moment, standing and reaching to a cupboard above her that she likely couldn’t reach, grabbing a small bag of potatoes he’d stored up there before handing them to her.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Maea pondered the view he offered on Deimos, at least. That the man was what he was not necessarily because he wanted it, but because habit and need had forged him to become that way. She hummed thoughtfully, her expression understanding when Sunjata seemed less than happy to talk about the General, and let the subject drop.

But then, Sunjata answered her question, and very much contradicted Maea's view on him. His statements of being greedy enough to steal, cold enough to kill, made her turn to look at him, her hands quite still as they closed around the bag he offered her.

Her eyes studied him closely, in that deep, soul-searching way she had done that day by the river. As if trying to see into the deepest depths of him. "It should bother me... shouldn't it?" she said, slowly. Hands tingling from how close he suddenly was. "That you have killed... and would do it again. And yet... it doesn't." Maea frowned, lowering her gaze to her own hands. Blood still crusted under her nails, clung to the creases of her skin... yet that didn't bother her either.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Her hands close around the bag of vegetables, and her head lifts to look at him – and in that moment, he studies her face, the closeness, swallowing hard against whatever thoughts surge through his mind at that point in time. But after a few more moments, he hears her slow question – a question that doesn’t quite spark a smile, but sparks something almost sad within him with it. All he can really do is nod to her with that while he tries to think of what to say.

And gods, does it take a bit of time before he manages it. “It should.” He says quietly. “But there’s a difference between being what you want to be and what life’s made you out to be.” A contemplative rumble as he studies her face before he looks toward Haai who’s continuing to happily dive into the bowl Maea had offered her.

“I never wanted to be a killer. But since the day I was born I was taught how to be. It’s as much who I am as anything else.” He shrugs to that, turning to lean back against the countertop to look at the table if only to keep his gaze away from her. “Only here had I the option of being something… Else. But it had been so long since I dreamed about being anything other than what I was that I just fell into what was easy, what was normal.” A quiet pause as he considers it. “I can’t change the blood on my hands, but my goddess is the herald of Vi, so I suppose I should learn to try and not add more.” A slight grimace grosses along his face at that, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Death should bother her. The taking of life, the spilling of blood... and yet it did not. Objectively, Maea could argue that preserving life was more beneficial and to respect the value of it... but she wasn't fool enough to claim she would never stain her own hands with death if it became necessary.

What had life turned her into, then? Someone tough and resilient, hard to kill, hard to break. With few scruples and loose morals, prepared to do anything to reach her goals. So... perhaps it was a good thing that she hadn't found them yet? Because she shuddered to think of the kind of things she might end up doing.

He turned away, leaned against the counter, and Maea brought her vegetables to the table. A little relieved for the distance, a little reluctant to step away.

"I met Amalia in Halo a few days ago," she told him, eyes on the task as she began to peel and dice up the ingredients. A stew would do, quick and filling... about the best she could manage with meager skills. "We talked... sorted a few things out. At one point, she asked me if I would do anything Ludo asked of me. And... I can't swear on it, but... I think I would." And Ludo was the herold of death, the opposite of life... the implication that she would kill for it if necessary didn't have to be said aloud.

"So... I guess it's between you and Safrin, what kind of role you can play for her. If Amalia is the Shield, and Deimos the Sword... I don't know. Does she need a dagger in the night? Of course, I think you have plenty other skills beyond killing. Not sure if you like to hear this, but... you're not a bad leader, from what little I've seen."

The smile she shot him was warm, recalling the way he had faced down Jigano at their meeting. His fervor in defending his guild, how he had taken charge over the Temple restoration. It might be something he had run from, but... perhaps the ruler was in his blood after all.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

His gaze slips back to her back when she comments that she met Amalia a few days ago – nodding along to it. He and the Shield had mostly sorted their grievances as well, as far as he was aware. But he nods nonetheless, mulling it over in his mind. He’d do anything for Safrin. Anything she asked of him, and he’d mean every bit and piece of it while he did it.

It was how he had managed to get the shrine completed, somehow.

But he listens further when she suggests a thought he’s had for quite a while now – a way to be useful for the goddess who had chosen him, who had changed him. And with it, he can’t help the slight snort as she mentions that he’s not a bad leader. Pushing off from the counter top he takes up his seat again on the stool at the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he watches her work. “Part of the training.” He shrugs as if it answers the question of why he might be somewhat good at it.

“As of right now, though, nobody would listen to me. So I am trying to lay low for the most part. I do need to visit Safrin, though. I had planned on asking her how I could be of more use to her.” He pauses to mull it over in his mind before saying it. “Amalia and I are on decent terms right now. I’m pretty sure Deimos still wants me dead.” He sits back a small amount, back to that perfect posture as he braces his forearms on the table and snorts. “It is what it is.”

Wasn’t the first time he’d had a warrant out for his head, anyway.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell